The road changed after the first river crossing.
One crossing at a time
Dust became water, the track became slower and every bend brought another section of the landscape into view.
There were twenty six crossings along the route.
Some were shallow and calm. Others required more attention and a slower approach.
More than a number
The crossings became part of the rhythm of the journey.
Drive, stop, look, continue.
By the end, the number mattered less than the experience connecting each one.
